Encryption
by NitnatRide
Summary: Donny detects something in the underground, and the guys go and investigate. None of them are prepared for what they find down there, nor the impact of it on their lives. OC/OC
1. Disturbance

**Hey, guys; thanks for clicking :) Okay, so this fanfic starts when Shredder as the Utrom has been "killed" at that place that was acting as a base for the surviving Utrom population when it blew up. (If anyone can remember the name/acronym of that place, it would be really useful to know.) The plot pretty much follows the same as the episodes, with a few added extras. Hope you enjoy chapter 1.**

**Fly on,**

**NitnatRide**

**Chapter 1: Disturbance**

**Donatello's POV**

My brothers may be too distracted with their training and all the action that's been happening around us lately, but I haven't forgotten the promise we made to our friends in the underground; we said we would return to them with a cure so that they can leave the underground cavern without turning back into monsters. And I'm never going to give up trying to do just that.

But how the shell am I supposed to do it?

I groan again as I spend another wasted minute at my desk gazing at the crystals with no clue of how to break them down. I know I have to, but nothing seems to be working.

Before I can fully go insane, however, a bleeping cuts through my frustrated thoughts, and I sit up, curious. Turning back to the source – my computer – I realise one of the many sensors I have laid about the city and other places has been triggered. Interestingly and appropriately enough, it's one from the underground. The bad news is the sensor that's been triggered is outside of the cavern, away from the Crystal Moon's light. I quickly list through the different reasons for this happening; my friend's wouldn't venture from the light, as they know what would happen if they did. That is, unless they were reverted back to savage monsters in the first place.

Before I can allow myself to panic further, I click through the data received from the sensor…and frown.

"That's strange," I mutter to myself, turning completely to my computer and opening a more detailed set of the data.

"What's up, Don?" Raph stops kicking the stuffing out of the poor punching bag, taking a breather and joining me by my equipment.

"I set up some sensors in the underground before we left, and one of them was just set off," I explain. "It was out of the range of the Crystal Moon though, so I got worried, thinking maybe one or all of our friends have changed back into monsters. But when I looked at the data detected by the sensor, it's like nothing I've ever seen. As in 'not even monsters', nothing I've ever seen.

"According to the sensor, who- or whatever set this off is a mixture of both technology and biology. I would originally have thought they had a microchip or some other kind of tech equipment with them, but both the biological _**and**_ the technological systems and signals seem to be working simultaneously…almost working _**together**_."

"I got about half of what you were saying," Raph admits, "but I'm getting the vibes that whatever this is ain't normal."

"Not at all," I agree. "You know there's basically a modern day war going on between biology and technology? Human workers are being replaced with machines, and all that? Imagine not having that war. Imagine both systems being able to hold hands in the same space and time, without any conflict."

"Whoa."

"Definitely whoa."

"What videogame you two playing?" Mikey jumps over from the TV area, and Leo joins him to see what the gathering is about.

I throw him a look over my shoulder. "Not everything about computers is about videogames, Mikey."

I relay the new information to Mikey and Leo, and – after explaining a few more times to Mikey, in simpler words – we all agree that whatever is down there isn't one of our friends.

"We should go check it out," Leo says, pushing back from the desk, and I stand up to join him, beginning to gather some gear to help us when we're down there.

"Back to the scary underground place?" Mikey clarifies. "Nuh uh. No way. I'll stay here, thanks." He turns to walk back to the TV.

"Okay," I smirk, slowly making my way to the sewer door. "You can stay here and tell Master Splinter where we are when he comes out."

Leo smiles sideways at me, and we share a look.

_Five, four, three, two, one…_

"On second thought, wait up…"

ЖЖЖ

As we descend into the underground again, I make a mental note to use some of the Utrom technology to build something that'll make navigating through this place a whole lot easier.

Halfway to the first sensor that was triggered, I pick up another disturbance on a different one, further down the same tunnel route as the first. The curious readings are the same, confirming that it's our mystery guest. We follow the trail set for us, on alert for any kind of attack, even though our friends were human last time we saw them.

We find ourselves in one of the genome labs, with the shield generator in the middle, even if the crystal fuel is absent. The computer screens still glow faintly, and the crystals I brought down add to the eerie glow in the room. Glancing around in the semi-darkness, I can't shake the feeling that we aren't the only presence here. And I've always been told to trust those feelings.

I trust them just a second too late; all the computer screens suddenly black-out, the darkness so surprising that none of us are prepared. I hear Raph cry out, and instantly drop my bag, drawing my bō staff ready against any sign of another attack. But another second later, the screens flash back on again, illuminating the room. I spot Raph on the floor, still conscious.

"You okay?" I check as he gets to his feet.

"My sai!" he cries, ignoring my question. "One of my sais has gone!"

Flicking my gaze to his belt, I realise he's right; only one sai remains stuck in the belt.

"That damn coward stole my sai!" Raph shouts, indignant and looking ready to commit murder. I guess he's fine then.

"Did you see them?" Leo asks, leader hat on while still scanning around us.

"Nah, they came from behind," Raph growls.

"Alright," Leo says, sheathing his own katana. "Let's keep moving; they can't have gotten far, so we should catch up with them."

"Yeah, this tunnel only runs this way, and I think I heard whoever or whatever it was going that way." I point towards the way we were heading before the attack.

"Let's go then," Raph insists, taking off at a run.

"Be careful, Raph!" Leo calls, running after him. "We need to be alert and cautious."

"You wouldn't be saying that if it was your katana that was taken," my angry brother retorts.

"Fair enough," Leo mutters.

Looking over my shoulder at my remaining brother, I gesture to the others. "Come on, Mikey."

"Right behind ya," he agrees, following me and chasing after the other two.

After a few minutes, a bleeping alerts me to the fact that another sensor has been triggered, this time in the next genome lab. Interestingly, I remember planting other sensors on the exit of that room, and yet my computer says that that sensor hasn't been disturbed. That means the presence is still in that lab.

Recounting my theory to the others, we approach the next lab more slowly, keeping to the shadows and staying completely silent in order to catch our opponent unawares. Strangely, the noise coming from the lab suggests that our opponent isn't expecting us to follow them, which seems a strange assumption if they are trained in Ninjitsu. We sneak round the corner, hiding behind a set of pipes, before glancing around the edge. Upon the sight, I freeze in confusion, and can sense the same bemusement from my brothers.

It's a girl, about the same age as us; no more than eighteen. She's facing into the far right corner of the lab from where we're standing, slightly turned towards us so we can see her features, but not enough that she would spot us in her field of vision. Large waves of hair, the colour of April's – if a little more red, rather than purple – fall to halfway down her shoulders. Raph's sai is in her hands, pushed into the lock of the glass cabinet she's facing, obviously trying to get it open, and her eyes – a really intense green, again like April's – are narrowed in concentration. Her white T-shirt with a flower design on the front is obviously dirty and old, as are her jeans, both fraying at their edges and with tears dotted about them.

As I narrow my own eyes, I see the cabinet she's trying to break into still has what looks like medication inside. She growls in frustration, throwing the sai to the ground, displeased with the lack of result, and now that she's not doing anything, I can see for the first time that she's shaking. Not with rage or any other emotion; more like uncontrollable convulsions. She smacks her trembling fists against the glass hard, and yet it doesn't even crack. It must be some kind of Utrom glass, resistant to almost any kind of force.

Suddenly the convulsions worsen, and her whole body begins to shake violently. She sinks to the floor by the cabinet, folding her arms around her knees, now drawn up to her chest, and begins to sob quietly.

"Don't let me die down here," she whispers, her words broken because of her shaking form. "Please, don't let me die down here. Not here."

"Seizures," I say almost silently, speculating to myself and the others. "Withdrawal symptoms to something."

We look at each other at the same time, all coming to the same conclusion; whatever she was trying to get out of the cabinet, she needs to be able to survive the next few hours, if not minutes. Raph grimaces in annoyance, and I know he's making one of those decisions that he knows is right but doesn't like.

"You're doing it wrong," he calls out, loud enough for the girl to hear.

She gasps, turning towards Raph's voice and trying to jump up. She fails, her body trembling too violently for her to hold herself up, and she collapses against the cabinet again, still staring in our direction. We all walk slowly from behind the pipes, trying to look as unthreatening as possible but ready to draw our weapons if she decides to attack. I don't see what harm she could do in the state she's in though.

Raph walks further towards her while Mikey, Leo and I stay back, so as not to make her feel threatened. Raph takes his sai from his belt, holding it loosely, and continues to walk towards the girl. Amazingly, she stands her ground, but fear is quite evident in her eyes and expression. My brother comes to a stop by the cabinet, and inserts the sai into the lock.

"You gotta be gentler with it," he explains, twisting his weapon in the lock slightly. It clicks open.

"Whaddaya need?" he asks, pulling the cabinet door open and looking down at the girl, now on the floor again.

She stares at him, her eyes wide, but more in disbelief that he's helping her, rather than fear because of his exterior.

"Tryptophan," she says after a few seconds of silence, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

Raph searches in the cabinet, eventually pulling out a capsule bottle, checking the label one more time before handing it to her.

"Sorry I don't have anything to help you swallow them," he says.

"Thanks," she gives a small smile as she unscrews the cap. "Don't worry; I've taken them dry before."

Shaking two small white pills into her hand, she tips them into her mouth, tipping back her head as she swallows. After a few seconds of awkward silence, with neither me nor my brothers knowing what to say or do next, the girl acts for us; her body still shaking slightly – though not as violently – she slowly and obviously reaches over to Raph's sai on the floor. Grabbing the blade gently, she picks it up and holds it out to Raph, handle first. He seems surprised at first before he stretches out and takes hold of it, carefully pulling it out of the girl's grip so as not to cut her.

"I'm sorry I took it from you," she says quietly, "and for knocking you over. I just needed something to pick the lock."

Raph nods silently to her, and I read between the lines of that gesture; he's saying 'I kind of understand your position, and probably would have done the same, but you still stole my sai, so I'll give you a bit of time to redeem yourself'.

As her body begins to fully calm down, Leo can't hold the interrogation in any longer.

"How did you get down here?" he asks, as gently as he can. "How did you know the medication you needed was down here? And why do you need it in the first place?"

She just smiles at him, her expression saying that she understands his curiosity and frustration. "It'll take a while for me to answer all of those questions," she admits. "First, introductions; you guys go first, because my introduction will just raise more questions as well as bringing us nicely onto your first ones."

My brothers and I look at each other, confused, before responding to her request, introducing ourselves respectively while Raph sheaths his sais. The girl smiles at us all, curiously undisturbed by four five-foot, talking turtles.

"I don't know what name my birth parents gave me," she confesses, and I blink in surprise. "Or if they even gave me one in the first place. But I've always liked the name Kelly, so that's what I go by."

We glance at each other again, confused by the fact that she doesn't know what her name is, but she doesn't continue. Instead she looks around, uneasily.

"I don't mean to be rude," she says, turning back to us, "but can we continue this discussion on the move? I don't want to spend any more time in this place than necessary."

Sharing looks between ourselves again, Leo, Raph, Mikey and I nod to each other, and Raph holds a hand out to help the girl up. As we start walking back the way we came, my mind is going a hundred miles an hour trying to find answers.

_She could have been orphaned at birth, but she still would have had a birth certificate, with her name on. And how does she know about this place? The fact that she's uneasy in here suggests that she knows what went on down here. Wait…_

Suddenly having a brainwave, I spin back to Kelly, pointing my finger at her. "You're an experiment! You're one of the Foot's experiments!" I stutter at the end, realising that I was both extremely rude and probably scaring her with my intensity. Lowering my finger, I smile apologetically. Surprisingly, Kelly grins at me.

"You're a smart one," she compliments me, and I've never been more pleased that my biology leaves me with an inability to blush.

"So, you're one of the experiments," Leo says as we continue walking. "That explains why you're not shocked at the sight of us."

"I've seen way weirder things," Kelly agrees. "And way more horrible."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Raph mutters.

"We know other people who were experiments," I explain. "They're human now, but they're trapped down here now, because they can't stray too far from the crystals found down here, or they turn back into monsters."

"I may know a few of them," Kelly says, looking happy that some of her friends might be alright now, but sad that they were caught up in it in the first place. "My story isn't like theirs though; for one, they were fully grown humans when they were taken for experimentation. My genetics were actually messed up before I was even born, using a method called amniocentesis."

"Messing with a foetus while it's still in its mother's womb," I automatically translate for the others, Mikey specifically.

"Exactly," Kelly nods. "But I'm like nothing the Foot has ever done before, and they don't know they succeeded."

"You're right about the 'like nothing ever done before' bit," I say, turning back to her excitedly again, my curiosity getting the better of me. "I checked your genetic make-up on my sensors that you set off down here, and it's unbelievable; both biological and technological, but working at the same time."

She stares at me with an odd look on her face for a few seconds, before smiling slyly. "You're the techno-geek of the family, huh?"

I smile sheepishly. "Uh, kind of, yeah."

Raph punches my shoulder lightly. "Stop being modest." He turns to Kelly, a proud smile on his face. "You want any kind of gadget, Donny's your man. Well, turtle."

Kelly laughs. "Well, you're gonna love me, from a scientist and techno-geek point of view. You heard of merging human DNA with that of other creatures, like cats and other stuff?" We all nod.

"I read about people doing that stuff in comics," Mikey says proudly. Kelly chuckles, already getting a good judge on Mikey's character.

"Well, the Shredder and his lackeys did the same stuff to me, only they didn't use animal DNA. My DNA is a mix of human, and the DNA equivalent in a computer."

I can't help it; I freeze and stare at her, my mouth hanging open like an idiot. She glances back over her shoulder, grinning at me again before continuing to walk forwards. I hurry to catch up.

"I can connect to any kind of technology around me," she continues, "and talk to it, asking it to do stuff for me. I can tap on to any electro-magnetic wave around me, hijacking it. I can actually enter into any technological equipment and travel down them; usually it's cell phones, because they have to connect with each other, so it's easy for me to skip from one place to another. Anything I think of doing, like cooking a specific dish or doing a cool dance move, I can automatically do them."

"How does that last one work?" I ask, unable to quell the scientist in me.

She smiles at me. "I have full-signal, unlimited and constant access to the internet in my body. There are so many step-by-step guides on there, it's incredible. But normal humans can only read them, and their success in whatever their doing depends on the competence of their body. Because the internet and my body are basically one and the same, as soon as I think about it, my body automatically knows how to do it." She directs her attention to Raph. "That's how I was able to knock you on the floor and steal your sai basically before you'd blinked; I thought up some kind of Ninjitsu moves that would allow me to do that, then told the computer screens in the room to die for a few seconds before I conducted the moves. Of course, the presence of the four of you helped with thinking up Ninjitsu moves."

"That's so cool," I whisper, imagining all the things this girl could be capable of.

"What do you mean our presence helped?" Raph frowns.

"Every single brain capable of memory is much like a database," she explains. "It stores information, and the user can retrieve it when they need it. Since I can access any kind of database – I once hacked into the CIA, so security systems are nothing to worry about – I can access the information in people's memories, and learn about the different Ninjitsu moves possible, for example. As soon as I saw a move that looked like it would help me retrieve the sai, my body automatically searched for the move and the instructions on how it's done, and I could then do it. It sounds more complicated than it actually is; now that it's instinct for me to do something like this, that whole process takes me on average two or three seconds. Five seconds, tops."

"That fast?" I breathe, my eyes nearly popping out of my head and dislodging my mask.

She, unbelievably, gets all shy, giving a small smile and shrugging modestly.

"So what's with the pills?" Leo questions, gesturing to the bottle still in Kelly's left hand.

This time, Kelly's smile is unbearably sad. "Every abnormal freak of nature that should never have been created has design flaws." She goes on before I can argue with her self-perception. "Mine is the fact that my human body needs all the stuff that normal humans need, like a hormone called serotonin. It's basically a hormone that keeps you happy and helps growth. My body doesn't produce any serotonin, so I need external help, like from these tablets or a glass of milk, or I start to crash, like you saw back in the lab. It starts with seizures like that, then I've worked out that I basically have thirty six hours – forty eight at most – to get supplements like these. If I don't get them in that time, I'll die of heart-failure."

The confession of the real fragility of her life shocks my brothers and me into a long silence before Leo frowns, obviously upset.

"How can you say such a thing so matter-of-factly?" he demands.

Kelly shrugs, and because I agree with Leo, her nonchalance annoys me.

"I've lived with it all of my seventeen-or-eighteen years of life," she says. "It's the same as someone born with asthma or anaphylaxis; they've suffered from a potentially life-threatening condition, and they've just got on with life because they've become accustomed to that threat."

"You shouldn't have to live with that though," I scowl, thinking about the Foot's cruel experiments.

"I shouldn't have to live, period," Kelly laughs once, hollow of any kind of humour. "I'm not natural, Donny, and it's not right for me to be alive."

I stare at her in shock, barely believing my ears, barely believing that someone could ever even _**think**_ that about themselves.

"_**We're**_ not natural," Mikey points out, being unusually observant and serious. "Does that make _**us**_ wrong? Mistakes?"

Kelly says nothing, looking toward the floor in shame, her red hair brushing against her face, and the light makes it look horribly like a meandering river of blood running down her face. "That's not what I meant," she whispers.

Leo sighs, and I sense he's going back into leader-mode. "Whether any of us are wrong or not, we're all here, so we need to work in the present to make the future. Where have you been staying since the lab was shut down and you obviously escaped?"

Kelly shrugs again. "Up top, on the streets anywhere around New York City. Wherever there was a space where I was less likely to be harassed by Purple Dragon punk wannabe-gangsters, I'd stay for the night."

Again, I frown, not liking the fact that she'd had to survive on the streets alone for so long.

"Well, we've got a place that'll be a lot more comfortable than the streets. It's in the sewers, but it's clean. And it's home."

"I found an extra room too, so Mikey won't have to share with Raph again," I point out, before my brother can complain.

Kelly stares off into the distance, her eyes unfocussed, as she considers our offer. Eventually she turns back to Leo, a warm smile on her face even as her eyes startlingly fill with tears.

"A home sounds great right now," she agrees.

**Kelly's POV**

I can't believe these guys are being so nice to me. Especially Raph; I _**did**_ knock him over and steal his sai, and from a look in Donny's memories, his weapons are everything to him.

We walk further along the tunnels in companiable silence, and my excitement puts a spring in my step, so much so that I surprise them when I follow their flips perfectly as we surface up to the sewers. I shrug off their impressed looks, reminding them of my hyper-kinesis – the ability to perform everything perfectly – and the Ninjitsu training I automatically learnt from their minds.

Considering I've slept anywhere I could on the New York streets, I have no qualms about wading through sewer water as we climb into the underground maze.

"Think you can keep up if we run?" Raph asks, actually genuinely concerned.

"Bite me," I grin, feigning indignation. "You're forgetting that my new ninja moves make me faster, and that I've been running my entire life outside of the lab. The only thing that's stopping me from challenging – and kicking – your reptilian rear at a footrace back to yours is the fact that it's rude to burst first one into a house to which you've been invited, especially if it's your first time there."

You would think a hamster had just snarled at the guys the way they're looking at me. I begin to get extremely self-conscious, worried that I'd offended Raph, before they all burst out laughing, and I join them in relief.

Eventually, when they've all calmed down, Raph slings an arm around my shoulders – easily, due to my measly 5'5". At least I'm a bit taller than these guys – and grins.

"Alright then," he says. "We'll lead, but you have to keep up. Let's see these mad skills you got then, kid."

I mock bow to him, gesturing to the right. "Lead the way, oh great one."

He takes off running with his brothers in tow, and I push myself forward, all of us laughing at the thrill of the mock chase as I catch up easily. The guys battle for the lead constantly, the fight mainly between Raph and Leo, while I contented myself to follow. For now; as soon as we're familiar enough with each other, I'm so going to prove that turtles are still really slow, whether genetically mutated or not.

When we get to a weird-looking teal-coloured door, we stop, obviously signifying the end of the race. All of us are barely breathing hard.

"Not bad," Mikey grins, nodding to me.

I flip my eyebrows in response, grabbing at an imaginary skirt and raising it slightly while bobbing once on my knees in a mock version of a curtsy.

Leo and the others walk forward, and I follow behind as the weird doors open automatically.

"Welcome to our humble abode," Leo grins.

Their home may be in the sewers, but it's not "humble" by any means. The wide, open circular room that we've stepped into has a main "arena" space in the middle, while the raised walkway runs all around the room, with ramps descending from four opposite points into the arena section. Off to my left, on the walkway, lies a "lounge" section with so many TV screens I can't count, and more computers and other tech to the right of couch. Those weird designs I saw on the door are dotted all around the lair. The whole place is made of stone.

But, since the guys have seen all this amazing stuff before, I'm thinking they're not bothered by the architecture or the equipment. I should think they're more concerned about the robed giant rat standing in the centre of the arena, a scowl creasing his furry forehead and his arms folded firmly as he glares at my new friends. From Donny's memory, I recognise him as Splinter, the master and father of the four brothers around me.

"You didn't…perchance…sneak out, did you?" I smirk and raise my eyebrows at all of them.

"No," Mikey squeaks, desperate for his master not to donate his hide to the shoe-making industry.

I glance back at Splinter. He did _**not**_ look happy.

"Busted," I warn the turtles.

**Let me know what you think :)**


	2. Adoption

**Just realised that this fanfic starts after the experiments from the underground have been cured, and I wrote in my first chapter that Donny was still searching for a cure for them. Oops. I'll try not to make stupid mistakes like that again, and I'll also not write about episodes that won't change because of Kelly's presence – like _Junklantis; _since it was just Mikey and Donny in that episode, it won't matter that I've added another character, the plot won't change. It would be a waste of time if I told a story that you guys should already know. That being said, don't read this fanfic until you've watched all the series of TMNT; it'll take me a while, but I plan on following the guys' whole story, up to the end of series 7. This is going to be a long fanfic :P**

**Anyway, enjoy.**

**Fly on,**

**NitnatRide**

**Chapter 2: Adoption**

**Kelly's POV**

Luckily for the turtles, their master actually gives them a few seconds to explain themselves before he sold their hides to the shoe-making industry.

Donny explains how I tripped one of his sensors in the underground – which, I point out, I did deliberately to get whoever had set them down into the underground so I could use whatever they brought to get the cupboard open – and how the brothers went down to investigate in case it was one of their friends. Together we go through the order of events, then I explain why I was down there in the first place with the others helping me to explain my horrific past to Splinter. We practically have to duct tape Donny's mouth shut to stop him going on and on about how cool my abilities are.

Even though we've already described how I knew who he was as soon as I stepped into the lair, Splinter bows to me in greeting, introducing himself.

I return the bow. "Sensei," I greet him. "I'm honoured to be in your presence. If you're anything like the superhero master and father that you are in your son's memories, they are very lucky indeed."

Splinter smiles shyly but proudly. "You are welcome here; in your case, I think I can safely say that the enemy of my enemy is my friend."

It's my turn to smile, and I incline my head in thanks for his quick acceptance.

Turning to the others, I notice them staring at me as if in shock.

"What?" I question, feeling self-conscious.

"When did you speak so…properly?" Mickey asks.

"Formally," Leo clarifies.

I shrug, wondering what the big deal is. "Any human would do it too; when talking with teenage friends, you use a different register – or way of speaking – than when faced with a Ninjitsu master. I can adapt to situations too. Possibly even better than a human because of my greater knowledge and understanding of almost anything out there."

"A computer that can adapt…" Donny whispers, amazed.

My next smile is slightly more forced than my previous ones; after looking at Donny's character – both through his memories and the others' memories of him – I predicted that he and I would get on well. But because of his tech-geek side, I think he sees me more as an interesting puzzle, a brilliant specimen, hence his previous sentence. My heart droops; he's a great guy, but…I hope we can still be best friends, or brother and sister, rather than scientist and freaky-computer-girl.

To distract myself from this depressing thought, I gaze around the room, my ears and smile pricking up once again at the sight of what I immediately recognise as 'Donny's area'; computers and a mock lab set-out gleams and winks at me. Hurrying over to the wheelie-chair I jump onto it and access the computer's content through a twist of my thumb and forefinger in mid-air; the computer's electromagnetic wave is a purplish and sparkling line of light in front of me, originating from the computer's CPU. After opening it, I narrow my search down to plans for Donny's future inventions I saw in his head. In under a second, I'm cycling through his dreams; labelled diagrams, equipment lists, power and energy and weapons calculations…

"Wow, Donny," I grin at him. "These plans are amazing. Everything you want to make holds real potential."

The guys blink, obviously forgetting what I can do; they probably can just seeing me sitting in Donny's chair and wiggling my fingers in the air. But their memories kick in again after a few seconds.

"Uh, thanks," Donny says. "But you could have just asked me to show you. What if I had had secret stuff on there?"

Flushing in embarrassment as my rudeness catches up with my senses, I rub the back of my head, laughing sheepishly. "Oh, yeah, sorry. I was just really excited; I saw that you like working on stuff with technology, upgrading it and building things to make life easier for you guys, and I had to check out your plans."

Donny blinks, then walks towards me, a small grin forming on his face. "You like building stuff? Like the stuff I build?"

I chuckle self-consciously again. "Yeah," I admit. "Plus, being able to do stuff with technology that I can do – like talk to it and control it, or whatever – it's sometimes really simple." I can almost feel my eyes suddenly brighten as a light-bulb flicks on in my head. "Can I help you with your projects? _**Please**_? Pretty, pretty please?"

Donny laughs. "Sure, I don't see why not. It'll be nice to have someone helping who can actually speak my language, too."

"Yes!" I cry, jumping up and throwing my arms around as much of my new brother as possible. "Thank you so much. This is going to be so much fun!"

After the guys recover from their shock at my sudden enthusiasm – which I gain control of a little too late – they burst out laughing, and I have no choice but to join in.

"I guess we don't need to worry about you settling in then," Leo winks. "You seem to fit in perfectly, especially with Donny."

"And you can help me with videogames, too," Mikey grins. "I bet you'd be awesome at them."

"Awesome enough to kick your Ninja butt," I promise.

"Oh, it's gonna be so cool having a sister!" Mikey jumps up, pumping his fist in the air, and we all laugh at his youthful zeal.

"Hey, guys," a new female voice joins the conversation, and we turn to the source.

The red hair, tied in a bun, and startling green eyes give her away from the guys' memories; April O'Neil. The buff body-builder with the obvious attitude, piercing blue eyes and shoulder-length blue-grey hair must be Casey Jones, Raph's best friend and human incarnate.

They smile at the guys, obviously used to being here and saying hi to them. Then their eyes fall on me, and their faces turn confused. I look at Donny.

"Story-time, yet again," I say. "I hope this will be the last time; I'm getting kind of tired of telling it over again." I turn back to April and Casey. "You might want to sit down."

By the time I've finished discussing the third version of my verbal autobiography, they are both grimacing in horror by the end of it. But, feeling uncomfortable with their obvious spoonfuls of sympathy, I direct the conversation to them, telling them that my abilities mean I know a lot about them already.

Luckily, Casey takes the bait as I predicted he would. "So you know about how I love sports. Ice-hockey in particular."

I nod, anticipating the next question about my own preferences.

"So what sports do you like?" See? Told you.

I shrug. "All kinds, actually. Despite being fused with technology, I'm no coach-potato. If I'd actually grown up in a normal environment," I explain, my voice automatically slightly more bitter, "I would have played loads of sport; basketball – my favourite, ice-hockey is pretty cool, figure skating, soccer, tennis. I'm not so keen on stuff like football or baseball; they're either really boring or really dangerous. Although, that's kind of hypocritical if I admit I like skateboarding, rollerblading, snowboarding, free-running…. I've never actually played any of these, but I've watched a few matches and examples of all of them; I can basically watch Youtube videos and online TV in my mind."

"Guys," Casey grins at the turtles. "She is awesome. You gotta keep her, seriously."

"Duh," Mikey agrees, grabbing me in a friendly head-lock as I laugh. "She's my new sister!"

We all join in laughing, and I feel a surge of happiness at the sound; I have a family now, who have accepted me so quickly and unconditionally, and friends, too.

"Wait a sec," Casey speaks again, his face looking like he's remembered something. "You said you liked basketball, right? Except you've never seen a match live before, right?"

"Yeah?" I respond, my intonation making it sound more like a question.

"There's a live match on nearby in, like, two days," he explains. "I planned on going to see it with one of my pals, but he cancelled on me, and I still have his extra ticket. You wanna come instead?"

My mouth drops open at his offer, and I stare at him. After a few moments, once I have recovered from the shock, the words tumble out of my mouth. "I would love to! Thank you so much, Casey!"

He grins back at me.

"Alright," Donny says, standing up. "It's late, so I'd better show Kelly to her room. I'm sure she wants some sleep; her body's probably exhausted after crashing earlier."

I smile at him and nod in confirmation, then I say goodnight to everyone, gaining hugs from almost everyone, and a light punch on the shoulder from Raph. Donny and I bow to Master Splinter before he leads me off to a room on the other side of the room, the weirdly ornate doors sliding open as we approach it.

Inside, it's _**huge**_, obviously better for something other than a bedroom, but the guys don't seem mind losing this five-hundred-square-feet space. Since Donny said he'd just found it recently, I expected it to be under-furnished; a modest bed – which, Donny explains, was reserved in case any one of their friends needed to stay – is pushed against the right wall with the head-board just right of the door; next to it is a small bed-side table, where Donny places the container of remaining Tryptophan for when I need it; right against the back wall, flat-pack bookcases lie empty and half-built, and a punching bag hangs from the ceiling a little more towards the left wall (obviously a spare one for Raph).

"Wow," I laugh breathlessly. "This is amazing." I turn back to see Donny smiling. "Are you sure you don't want to use this for something else rather than hosting a lodger?"

"You're not a lodger, Kelly," he rolls his eyes. "And, no, we don't mind."

I silently think of a compromise and shrug as I come to a conclusion. "Well, I'll probably just spend time sleeping in here, and kill time out there with you guys, so you can use it for whatever if you need to store stuff or want extra room."

"Fine," he sighs, probably knowing that this is one argument he can't win by logic. "We can get April and Casey to go out tomorrow to buy you stuff, like more clothes and toiletries, but for tonight you'll have to make do." He grimaces in apology. "Sorry."

I have to chuckle at his kindness. "Donny, I've been living on the streets for the past few years; trust me, this isn't rough living."

He grins, then starts walking out, calling goodnight and showing me a switch on the side of the door that locks it when I want privacy for changing or anything.

As the door slides close behind him, I flop down onto the bed, resting my hands behind my head and sighing in delight as the mattress springs slightly, cushioning my fall. _This is the life_, I think contentedly. Turning onto my side and partially curling up, I smile at the others through the door, hoping they can sense my gratitude.

_Thank you,_ I say silently. _I've never known kindness like this._ Grinning, I now speak to myself. _I've always wanted a brother, and now I've got four. I really am luckier than I thought possible._

**Sorry if that's a crappy ending, and sorry if it's a little short. I just wanted to get something up. Luckily I've already written most of the next chapter, so that should be up by the end of the day, too.**

**If you think this is good enough to continue, could you please leave a review? I've kind of got 13 fanfics on the go, and many more ideas that I may/may not decide to publish, so it's slightly hard to juggle my time. I'm kind of deciding which fanfics to focus on by a) what comes into my head, and b) their apparent popularity. Basically, if I don't get many reviews, then that fanfic is going to be lower on my update priority list. I hope that makes sense :S**

**Fly on,**

**NitnatRide**


	3. Connections

**Chapter 3: Connections**

**Kelly's POV**

The last few days with the guys have been awesome; we're acting like we've always lived together. I watched them and listened to their wave-patterns – their thoughts and feelings basically – in the daytime when they're training with Master Splinter, considering if I could ask to join in the training. In the evening and when they _**weren't**_ training, I sparred a little with Raph and Leo (mostly) in unarmed combat, I totally _**kicked**_ Mikey's ass in Tony Hawk's, I got a little beginners explanation of Donny's projects and started helping him with those. I also went out shopping with April to help me get some clothes and stuff. Among other outfits, I picked out an awesome white T-shirt with a Gothic black design in the middle while the hem tied a few inches above my belly button, and some frayed denim shorts and red Converse to go with it. Summer weather – when you're _**not**_ living on the streets – calls for summer clothes.

I'm wearing the outfit now as Casey takes me to a local New-York-only match, not far from the lair, in lower Manhattan. The teams playing are the Manhattan Marines and New Jersey Generals. Yeah, I think the military names are a bit weird too. But, lucky for me, this game is the final, so the match should be an interesting one.

Needless to say, Casey's batting for the Marines, so I think it's best if I join his group, rather than opposing the guy who's nice enough to bring me along with him.

We take our places near the back of the bleachers, way up high just outside the 'D' at one end of the court. If either team is any good, we should get a few decent views of shots made up this end.

Casey sits down, a large box of nachos in one hand and another of toffee popcorn in the other. How he thought the two of them went together is beyond me. I content myself with a large hotdog with ketchup and onions.

The stadium fanfare suddenly blasts out, and Casey joins the cast bleacher-population in the standing, cheering and applauding – he'd somehow deposited his food at the speed of light before standing – as the first team, the Generals, enter onto the court. All of them are fit young men, obviously in their prime around my age, and looking very good, I will admit, in their appropriately-coloured khaki sleeveless top and long baggy shorts. They form a spread-out group on our side of the court, facing the opposite hoop to my left, obviously shooting in that direction.

Next are the Marines, and Casey screams the loudest in the whole stadium as they jog their way out in their own uniforms, but in a deep navy blue. Like the Generals, they're all very good-looking guys, but I only really begin to appreciate their looks when Casey starts pointing all the team players out. Especially when he gets to the last one.

"You see that one there?" I follow the direction of his finger, and the world seems to drop out of my perception.

I should just describe him like I would describe the appearance of anyone I have no connection with; the bare facts. Blonde, around six-foot, looks fairly strong, blue eyes. But I can't. I can't _**not**_ tell you how his hair, which curls softly but messily into his eyes and to kiss his ears, reminds me of the colour of a wheat field in the sun. I can't leave out the fact that somehow I think he's the perfect height, and that he seems perfectly strong enough to protect and defend, but not a body-builder looking for a fight (like Casey). I can't miss the opportunity to describe _**how**_ I know his eyes are blue; because they are the most intense and beautiful blue that travels even to this distance.

_Oh, yes, Casey; I can see him._

I nod dumbly to answer Casey, never taking my eyes off the god of basketball uniform commercials.

"That's Ryan Daker," Casey explains, oblivious to my ogling. "His teammates and a lot of his fans know his nickname, the Eagle."

"Why do they call him that?" I'm surprised I manage to string the question together.

"You'll see what I mean in this game, but it's 'cos he moves like one; he's on the outskirts one minute, then he sees a weakness in the opponent's position with his dribbling, and he swoops in almost faster than you can track him, snatching the ball, dribbling it to the other end of the court and jumping to feed it gently into the hoop. His speed is impossible and I never knew moves like that could be so…graceful." He turns to me now, eyes bright. "You have to see it in action to really appreciate it."

"I'll keep an eye out," I promise, grinning. Translation: I definitely won't miss it because I'll never take my eyes off this beautiful specimen of a male.

Beginning to see truth in Casey's analysis of Ryan Daker as the player suddenly darts from one foot to the other as a warm-up, I tense in anticipation of a great match as the Marines spread out over their side of the pitch, facing the hoop on the opposite end of the court – and in front of my seat. Meaning they will be shooting at the hoop in front of my seat, giving me a perfect view of any victories. My fingers still spasm as I curl them into fists to try and quell the excitement growing inside me. No such luck, and I stop trying quickly; it's too electrifying a feeling to get rid of.

A strained hush smothers the bleachers as the referee steps into the middle of the court, the ball in his hand ready for the jump-ball that starts the game. Ryan Daker hangs back by the wings of his defence-hoop, never taking his eyes off the ball or possibly his attack-hoop. Both seem to have his full attention.

The temptation too much to resist, I reach out mentally, across the vast expanse between me and the player before finally connecting with him…and I catch my breath.

I was right about the ball and the goal being his main focus – I can feel the importance of the two objects through his entire being as his eyes burn a blue fire – but they're not the only focus. He knows he can't do this alone, and he believes with all his heart that he is _**not**_ the most important player on the team, and neither is anyone else. Without any one of his teammates, his friends, they would lose something vital that they would never get back, no matter if they replaced him even with someone from the Harlem Globetrotters. His sense of unity with his team astounds me. And because his has all his team beside him, supporting him, he's confident. Not arrogant, but he believes that he can – they _**all**_ can – perform to the best of their ability, and that that is what is needed to beat the Generals.

I feel all of this in the first two seconds of connecting with him, and I quickly retreat, satisfied with the empathy I have now gathered and in fear of becoming too into someone else's emotions. Especially his.

At the other end of the court, Ryan Daker, to my utter amazement, frowns, as if confused or discomforted by something, something that doesn't feel right. But then he shakes his head, clearing it and focussing on the game once more as I gasp again, realising what has just happened.

Sometimes, if it's a certain type of person and if I have a strong enough connection with them, whoever I've connected with notice a change in themselves, in the way they're feeling, as I break the connection. Their body senses a change in how their emotions are distributed – suddenly going from across two bodies through my connection to just one again.

Did Ryan Daker feel me leave him? And, more importantly…did he feel _**uncomfortable**_, _**upset**_ by my absence?

A sharp whistle breaks my reverie, and my heart continues its already 100-mile-an-hour pace as the referee throws the ball vertically up between the two opposing players in the middle of the court, and they both jump up to hit the ball back to their team-players. Again, although he jumps from foot to foot, Ryan Daker hangs back in the bottom right corner, waiting by the hoop just in case he needs to defend. He's right to trust his gut; the taller General who did the jump-ball manages to bat the ball back to one of his teammates to his left, who catches it and quickly starts to dribble the ball towards his attack-hoop.

Ryan Daker regards the attacker coldly – not angry at him for doing his job, but knowing that it's _**his**_ job to stop him – and the calculations and strategic analyses are almost visible in his gaze.

Finally, I get a demonstration of Casey's fanatic description; Ryan Daker, who has been watching from his position until now, sprints forward in a movement that both startles me and leaves me breathless at the sheer speed and grace. He clears the width of court between the two players, spinning around in front of the attacker, who leans back in surprise at the sudden presence in front of him. And suddenly, as Ryan Daker finishes his manoeuvre, he has the ball, and streaks up to the other end of the court. He's over halfway by the time the Generals have even realised they've lost the ball. Casey and other Marine fans jump to their feet and yell in encouragement and triumph, and I join them, my eyes fixated on him and my heart beating in time with his, I imagine. My fists tensing again, I hold my breath as Ryan Daker finishes his journey, turning slightly then leaping backwards, feeding the ball easily into the hoop directly in front of my seat.

A joy bursts from my heart at his victory, its intensity a shock to me considering this is just a game, but I still cheer at our lead already.

Back on the court, Ryan lands nimbly from his jump, and his teammates swarm around him to congratulate him, patting him on the back and ruffling his sunshine-locks. He takes it all calmly though, celebrating his victory enough that he obviously wasn't over-confident that he was going to get it, but brushing it off enough that he isn't rubbing it in the Generals' faces.

This guy is unbelievable.

"See what I mean?" Casey turns to me, his blue eyes excited again. He points down to Ryan. "What did I tell ya?"

"He's amazing," I agree whole-heartedly and loudly over the fans' cheering.

At that point though, there seems to be a lull in the noise from our side of the bleachers; Ryan Daker must have heard me, as he turns to look in my direction. His intense eyes search the stands briefly before meeting mine, and a shock runs through me as we make our first – debatably – physical connection. The expression on his face indicates some surprise on his part too, but there's another emotion too; almost…_**wonder**_.

Eventually, his initial shock wears off, and a small but bright smile grows across his face, his bleached, straight teeth almost blinding me, and he dips his head slightly for a few seconds before turning back to concentrate on the game.

It takes me a few seconds to get out of my stupor first, then a few more to decode his message; he was greeting me in a very gentlemanly way – rather than staring at other parts of my body – and also accepting my compliment in the same gracious and modest way he was accepting those of his teammates.

"Whoa," Casey breathes, amazed. "Ryan Daker just…looked and _**smiled**_ at you! You guys seriously had some chemistry there!"

I had thought the same thing, but the fact that someone else noticed too startles me into embarrassment, and I try to cover my blush by taking a dig at my friend.

"What are you, a teenage girl at a _Twilight_ convention?"

Casey scowls, offended, and I know my distraction has worked. "Hey, Ryan Daker is a sport legend who's actually a decent guy. That idiot Pattinson guy has nothing on him. And I'm a sports fan who's appreciating an amazing basketball player; there's nothing girly about that."

I laugh at my friend, turning back to the court. But Casey refuses to give up.

"Do you _**liiiiike**_ him?" he chuckles, nudging me.

I narrow my eyes at him. "I don't know about you, but I came here to watch a basketball game."

Casey's grin widens, and he holds his hands up in surrender. "Alright; I'll drop it…for now," he adds, snickering.

I growl under my breath.

The rest of the game goes brilliantly for the Marines; any General attacker that comes close to their goal soon finds that they no longer have possession of the ball, and that Ryan Daker has either passed to his teammates or started streaking down the court himself. Almost every time the Generals try to score, instead they end up with a point _**against**_ them.

When it comes to a penalty shoot-out for the Marines with less than five seconds to go, the 18-10 score in favour of the Marines proves that they've already won. But we all hold our breath anyway as Ryan Daker steps up to the challenge, knowing that the crowd and his teammates are putting their faith in him to just end the match on an even better note than it is already. I don't connect with him again, but I will him to hear my thoughts:

_You can do it. I believe in you._

After bouncing the ball in front of him a few times, he suddenly catches it in two hands again, straightening up. He turns to look directly at me, smiling. I gasp as our eyes meet again, green and blue, both equal in their intensity. He holds the ball slightly higher, his eyes flicking to it briefly, then balances it on one hand as he points to me with the other. A message:

_This one's for you._

Jealous murmurs and gossiping whispers rise up in the stands at that very public display, and I blush at his boldness, unable to keep from smiling back. He grins again, then turns back to the more important task. Hush returns to the bleachers.

Ryan Daker doesn't bother with his tension-building focus technique this time; he simply adopts the basketball shooting pose – knees bent slightly, ball balanced on his fingertips, elbows bent – and springs up, launching the ball forward. It doesn't even hit the backboard. It just falls straight through the net.

The stadium explodes, the sheer joy and pure euphoria too intense to be contained by the enormous structure, let alone the tiny fragile form of the human body. Casey's hearty embrace nearly crushes my ribs, and my ecstatic laughter certainly doesn't help matters. But I wrap my arms around his chest as much as I can, because I can empathise; I'm overjoyed. Not just because I'm having such a good time with a guy who I now consider to be something of an adoptive big brother, but because I consider the score of this game as a victory like I never have. I have always been interested in basketball, but this game means so much more to me than any other I have witnessed, and not just because it's my first live match.

I turn back to the court, and our eyes meet again, as he is smiling wider than ever before, obviously laughing with his friends as they huddle together to congratulate each other. But he's looking at me. He doesn't seem to care as many people in the audience, even his teammates, realise who he's staring at again and begin teasing him, prodding him and ruffling his hair. I can't stop laughing as I slap my hands together with the rest of the stadium, cheering, and I nod to Ryan Daker, telling him silently that I think he did brilliantly.

_Well, okay; maybe being live has its advantages…_

ЖЖЖ

"Forget it, Casey; I'm not doing it!"

"Oh, come on, Kelly! You two were constantly staring at each other in the game, so it should be easy for you to walk up to him and just say 'hi' to him! Just introduce yourself, and it'll all go on from there."

I scowl at my muscle-bag friend who's attempting to push me over to Ryan Daker, sitting just on the other side of the stadium. He's still in his uniform, but he has a black jacket covering his previous bare arms, and a gym bag is slung over his right shoulder. He keeps glancing around, then over to the changing-room exit again, probably waiting for one of his friends to come out and walk back home with him.

"Look, he's probably leaving soon anyway," I point out. "And why would he want to see me? I'm just a random girl in the audience."

"You're a random girl in the audience that he singled out to keep glancing back at and to smile at and, most importantly, to dedicate a successful penalty shot to!" Casey nearly yells in enthusiasm, and I glare at him to keep his voice down lest the boy in question hears. I sigh; he probably doesn't want to meet me – a fan-girl from the audience. He doesn't want to be bothered with the likes of me. He probably has a model girlfriend anyway, one who is way better than me.

"Yeah, but he probably does that at every game; chooses one girl out of the audience and does the same thing," I argue, my heart sinking with that reality even as I create it.

"No, he doesn't," Casey says softly, seeming to understand my sudden dejection. "He honestly doesn't."

Someone calls out Ryan Daker's name, and Casey and I see one of the Marines coming out of the changing rooms, in normal clothes and calling to his friend on the bleachers. Obviously, Ryan Daker's ride is here. The blonde angel smiles at his friend, standing up and does one last look around.

This time, however, his gaze finds me, and his face morphs briefly into pleased surprise. His legendary full-force grin returns, and I'm momentarily stunned. Before he decides to come over to me though, I ignore the not-so-delicate shove that Casey gives me, and I gesture again, retaining our method of communication used throughout the game. Pointing to the door, I indicate that Casey and I are just about to leave. His grin, as well as the rest of his face, falls, and his disappointment warms my heart and almost compels me to comfort him simultaneously. He then looks down and nods his head, his expression almost self-berating, and I can almost hear his thoughts now: 'Of course they have to leave, idiot. Did you think they would stay here overnight?'

As he looks back up again through his eyelashes, my face scrunches in sympathy and apology. Then his face brightens suddenly, and he gestures to both me and Casey and his friend, waiting for him. He runs over to the other end of the court, picking up the basketball that had just been left there for some reason. Dashing back to his gym bag, he rifles around until he finds a black felt-tip pen, yanking the cap off then proceeding to draw it across the ball's surface. Casey and I glance at each other in bemusement. After the pen moves with a flourish, Ryan Daker holds up his design so Casey and I can see. From the cursive style of the writing, I assume that it's a signature. I smile half-heartedly as I think of the joy that will bring Casey; a basketball signed by the great player, Ryan Daker.

But he points to the signature and then to Casey at my side:

_This is for him._

Rotating the ball to the other side of the face, he begins to write again, then presents his second piece to us. It's a series of numbers. Wait a second…. I count the numbers, making sure they fit the normal pattern. They do; it's a phone number. If reason is correct, and I'm not going insane…it's _**his**_ phone number.

Again, using gestures, he taps the phone number before slowly and deliberately drawing his finger in my direction.

_But _**this**_ one is for you._

I can't move. There's no brain power left to lift my limbs or close my mouth as my mind plays and replays that moment, using its above-average capacity and abilities to analyse it in some way that would make rational sense. But, whichever way I look at it, I come to the same miraculous conclusion; Ryan Daker just gave me his number.

Noticing my lack of activity, Ryan Daker smirks, throwing the ball through to air for me to catch, obviously not expecting me to break out of my trance enough to actually walk up to him. Luckily I _**do**_ actually catch it, rather than stand in a stupor as it drops to the floor, and a euphoric and grateful smile spreads across my face until it hurts my cheeks it's so wide. Ryan Daker's shoulders jerk as he laughs softly. As he stands up again, swinging his bag onto his shoulder again, he winks at me, then turns to Casey and nods once to him in greeting. He grants me one last smile before leaping gracefully from the bleachers and taking off out the door with his friend.

I let Casey fawn over his signature for a while, absently agreeing to whatever he says while the stupid grin on my face refuses to be dampened. I float back to the lair, skipping any time my feet actually touch the ground, all the while clutching that basketball to my chest like it holds the key to my happiness. Maybe it does.

_Oh, I really hope it does…_

**Sorry if that's really cheesy. It's just that it's so easy for me to fall in love with the guys I create . Is that pathetic? Anyway, please review if you think this is good enough to continue. It's doesn't take long, I swear; even four words is fine :)**

**Fly on,**

**NitnatRide**


	4. Somehow

**Hey, I'm really sorry for how long this has taken me! Mixture of writer's block and getting distracted by other fanfics. I'm really sorry to all you out there who were waiting for this chapter, and I'm sorry if you're disappointed with it; I tried to rush it at the end just to get something up for you all. I swear next chapter will be more to my usual standard though.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Fly on,**

**NitnatRide**

**Chapter 4: Somehow**

**Kelly's POV**

"So," April smiles after saying hi when Casey and I walk through the door, "did you guys enjoy the match?"

"It was awesome!" Casey exclaims, grinning. "The Marines won by a landslide." Suddenly he smirks, talking before I can stop what I inevitably know he's going to say. "Kelly really owes me, too; not only did I introduce her to the genius that is live basketball, but I also introduced her to her future husband."

"Shut your _**mouth**_!" I snap, embarrassed at his teasing. All the while, I still hold the ball to my chest protectively.

"Huh? Her future husband?" Everybody stops what they're doing and comes a little closer. Mikey looks ready to hear something he can use to rip into me. Donny and Leo also look amused, but somewhat happy for me, too. Raph, on the other hand, is frowning, for some unknown reason. I'm about to connect with him, but I suddenly realise his thoughts without doing so, and I restrain myself from groaning; he's going to be the over-protective big brother type who has declared war on all males even potentially interested in me. Great. Wonderful.

"Yeah," Casey laughs. "A sporting legend caught her eye. And the best part is that she caught his, too; the ball in her hands is from him, with his signature on one side and his number on the other."

"His _**number**_?" April beams, eyes wide as she walks closer to me. "Ooo-ooh, Kelly's got a boyfriend! I'm impressed you got him hooked after seeing him once. You go, girl!"

"Go where, exactly?" I snap, their optimism grating on my last nerve. Their smiles slip off their faces quickly as they see the seriousness on mine.

"Don't you guys realise that nothing can come of this? I'm a freak, and I always will be! I can't talk to him about what school I went to, what I do in my spare time, what my talents are or even where I live or what my family is like. I can have no resemblance of a normal life, and I don't want to drag him into that. And that isn't even considering the near-certainty that he would run for the hills if I did tell him all of that! I can't even use this number he's given me because I don't really have a cell phone; I call them through my own brain, and any caller ID would only show a series of symbols. If he even picked up in the first place, he would start asking questions about why the hell my cell phone had a weird number. I can never show him who I am, and I can't lie to him. So what choice do I have but to let him go?"

My whole body sags as I finish my logic rant, and I let the ball drop to the ground before running to my room, flicking the switch to lock it before crashing face-first into my pillow.

**April's POV**

The silence that follows Kelly's departure is horrible; each of us is radiating sympathy, but at the same time we all know that that is not what she would want right now. She has to suppress those thoughts even slightly to allow room for other more rational ones.

The basketball that Kelly let drop before she escaped to her room wobbles one last time on the floor before coming to a rest a few steps from me. I stare down at it in pity, seeing only the dreams and happiness that this poor girl believes she cannot have. She is so selfless and self-deprecating; she doesn't want to drag this boy into a world full of horrible acts that he's not aware of, but she also considers herself one of those horrors, and that the terrible things that have been done to her make her an abomination as a result. She doesn't seem to realise that in the space of a few days, the guys, Splinter, Casey and I see her as a sister and friend with amazing abilities, rather than as an experiment. We need to improve her perception and hope, demonstrating that she is more than what she thinks somehow. _**Somehow**_.

Something on the basketball catches my eye, and I pick it up to study it more closely. I blink in surprise as I recognise that signature. I check again. No, it definitely says 'Ryan Daker'.

"Ryan Daker," I repeat to myself. "No way."

"Wait," Casey walks up to me, a dubious expression on his face. "_**You**_ know Ryan Daker?"

I frown at him. "Thanks for the support, Casey. Yeah, I know him, but not as a basketball player."

Ignoring everyone's confused looks, I walk to the computer and load up the internet. I search for 'Slam Dunk Florescence', and sure enough, there's the ad that I was looking for on the venue's news page.

"See here?" I point to the screen, drawing the guys' attention to a listing of the people involved, which included Ryan's name. He is even in a photo of an event he did in the past at this place.

"So…" Casey's eye narrow in suspicion and disbelief. "Ryan Daker, the sporting legend, is…in a band?"

"Yep," I nod. "It's with a childhood friend and his little brother, Chris and Jackson Roath. Slam Dunk are really well-known and popular in Manhattan and other parts of the city. I really like their stuff, but they've all agreed that they don't want to do this kind of thing big-time. They just want to stick with being popular in the city, rather than being famous. They've got a gig going on at this club called Florescence in two weeks. If she wants, I'm sure I can grab Kelly an extra ticket."

"That's really sweet of you all."

I jump at the last voice I expected to hear. We all glance around, but Kelly's nowhere to be seen, and her bedroom door is still closed. Glancing at each other, we shrug in perplexity.

"I'm talking through the computer speakers, guys. You really shouldn't be shocked by this by now."

I attempt to keep my face carefully amused rather than surprised and awed; if she knew that we weren't looking at the computer, that may mean that she's able to see us somehow through the screen, too. I have to do that because I also know why she's speaking to us in this way, and why her tone was self-conscious a few seconds ago; she's demonstrating how different she is, so trying to convince us with the same ridiculous conclusions she's drawn. She's saying that she can't do something as normal as go to a music concert or even meet up with a nice boy again because she isn't normal. She is normal though; she just has a few added extra abilities.

"That kind of casual front may have worked on me, April," Kelly speaks again, "if I couldn't read your intentions in your wave-pattern. They were nice thoughts though, thanks."

I sigh. "Look, Kelly; whether you think you're normal or not, you have the right to a normal life, and you deserve to be happy. It just so happens that being happy, for you, means doing fairly normal stuff, like hanging out with friends and family, going to basketball games, going to music gigs, and stalking a really cute guy that you like."

A huff sounds from the speaker, and I internally celebrate that I made her laugh. I let her mull that over, and half a minute later her voice sounds again, quieter than before.

"I'm scared," she admits. "Scared of so many things. I…I really love music. It's one of my passions, and so if I see Ryan making music that I love, I'm scared that…the feelings I have for him will get so strong that I won't be able to back out. If that happens, then it could go three ways; we get closer and he finds out what I am and we stay closer, which would be…_**amazing**_; or we get closer and he finds out what I am and freaks out and leaves me, which would be _**devastating**_; or he doesn't like me like that at all and we drift apart."

"Whoa, hey, slow down," I interrupt. "Exactly how much do you think your relationship would develop after one concert?" My rhetorical question is met with silence as she contemplates its meaning.

"Listen, I know it may be the computer side of your thinking that's telling you to make predictions and calculations, but I would have thought that you, of all people, would know that human thoughts, behaviours and especially emotions are _**very**_ tricky to predict accurately. Did you expect to have such strong feelings already for a guy you've never even properly talked to?"

Again, silence.

"Maybe," I continue softly, "you could take it one meeting at a time, just to see how it goes."

A few minutes pass before: "But I'm scared. You said so yourself that I already have strong feelings for him. What good would it do to let those feelings grow only to get them crushed?"

I smile sympathetically. "That is a potential conclusion. But so is the complete opposite, and you know that. Can you imagine living with that knowledge after not doing anything, after missing your chance? We're all here to support you in heartache, if the worst happens. But there's not a lot we can do to help you fight regret."

A defeated and weary sigh fizzes through the speakers.

Nothing else seems to happen until Mikey says, "Hey!" and points at the screen, and we all watch in amazement as the cursor moves independently before selecting the 'buy tickets now' button on the open page.

The grin that spreads across my face is full of all the relief and joy and excitement that I feel, and I can feel the same emotions from the guys around. The computer screen pixels suddenly overlay a digitised image of Kelly's sheepish face over the open page, and she beams shyly at us. Then, beautifully, she smirks mischievously.

"You know, if you want free tickets, I can always 'convince' the payment program that you've paid already?"

I smirk back but disapprovingly. "No, Kelly; we're paying – or, more accurately, _**I'm**_ paying – for these tickets with actual money, not techy magic tricks."

"I was just offering," she sticks her tongue out at me.

We all laugh at her antics before she disappears from the screen to reappear from her room. After we all give her hugs of support, she and I both go and prepare for the gig in a fortnight, discussing clothes, make-up, shoes, accessories, anything that normal young women talk about before going on a normal night out.

**So that's chapter 4. Sorry for it being so much shorter than I'm used to publishing, it's just a really long time since I updated this, so I really wanted to just give you all something. I really hope I don't take as long to update it again. Thanks for sticking with me if you have been waiting for this. Please, just leave a review so I know that I should update again, or I won't make it a priority.**

**Fly on,**

**NitnatRide**


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